


Worth the Trouble

by Geonn



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Enemy Lovers, F/F, Food Kink, Food Sex, Object Insertion, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-13 01:00:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geonn/pseuds/Geonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina tries to coerce an apology from Emma in a unique way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth the Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Fourth Annual Femslash Kink Meme prompt "creative use of apples during sex." Heed that before you read this!

_"There never was an apple, in Adam's opinion, that wasn't worth the trouble you got into for eating it."_ \- "Good Omens," Neil Gaiman  & Terry Pratchett

"Did you know that the fruit with which the serpent tempted Eve likely wasn't an apple at all?" Regina's voice, like liquid fire in Emma's veins. The house is otherwise silent. No central heating hum, no music from other rooms, no appliances clattering. There's only Regina's voice and Emma's breathing. Her lips curl around Regina's stocking, which keeps her from replying. Regina doesn't care; it's not a dialogue.

"The Latin word for 'apple' and 'evil' were nearly identical. And Renaissance painters used imagery from Greek mythology to portray Biblical stories. Somewhere along the way, the idea became gospel." Her lips twist into a Cheshire grin, her lips painted almost purple. "So to speak." 

She extends her arm, her hand over Emma's chest with the knuckles pointed to the roof and her thumb sticking out to one side. Emma looks away from Regina to the object in her hand. The splintered red flesh showing white meat within, crushed by impossibly strong fingers with bright red polish. She squeezes again and the juices spread across her fingers, then drip down almost obscenely.

The pale liquid splashes between Emma's breasts and she steadies her breathing. It trails down her stomach, the apple juice pooling in her navel. Regina's lip curls and she moves her wrist in a complicated pattern, making sure to cover Emma's breasts entirely. Emma is wearing only her white panties, lace at the hips, pretty enough to show a lover but not so fancy that she can be accused of expecting this outcome when she got dressed.

Her chest is now sticky with apple juice, and Regina rises from the bed. She drops the withered core of the apple into a bin next to the bed and looks at Emma as she sucks the remnant juices from her fingers. Emma's eyes are transfixed by the stare; she can't look away even if she wanted to. Her palms are pressed together over her head, tied together at the wrist by some complex knot. Regina rises from the bed and walks to the basket of apples sitting on the nightstand. Emma runs her eyes down the Mayor's body. 

Forest green panties and a matching bra are visible under her sheer robe, which shows off a toned and athletic body. When she turns, she is holding a large red apple in one hand and a knife in the other. The light from the hallway gleams off the blade and Emma grows very still. Regina smiles as she walks back to the bed. "If I wanted to hurt you, I could have done so by now. In so many ways." 

When Regina's hand turns, she can see a hollow space that runs the apple's full length; it's already been cored. She climbs back onto the bed and straddles Emma's thighs. She holds eye contact as she lowers her head and extends her tongue to sweep away the juice from Emma's flesh. Up the inner curve of her breast, around one peaked nipple, sucking it eagerly before moving to the other. Emma's eyes close and a quiet sound of pleasure escapes around her nylon gag. 

She strains against her bindings, but they don't budge. She wonders how Regina was able to tie her so securely; surely she was stronger than some small-town Mayor ( _unless Henry is right and she's_ ) but she can't think of that now, because Regina's tongue is thrusting into her navel and sucking up the juice. 

Regina sits up, her feet curling to rest under Emma's legs. It's almost like a pinning move, and Emma doesn't test to see if she could get her legs free. She doubts she would like the results if she did try. Regina holds the apple with splayed fingers and brings the knife to its flesh. She slices once down the middle, and the juices cascade down again. Emma whimpers as it lands on her skin, moistening her panties. Regina uses her fingers to make the bisected apple orbit against her palm, watching Emma's eyes as she slices again to create four wedges. She grips the knife by the tip and idly tosses it.

Emma's breath catches, her eyes wide as she looks to see the utensil ( _weapon_ ) embedded in the wall next to the door.

"Look... at me."

Emma turns her head.

Regina lifts one wedge and brings it to her mouth. She runs her tongue alone one smooth side, gathering the juices and curling her tongue back into her mouth. Her throat works as she swallows, and she turns it to sweep the other side as well. Then she leans forward and pulls the nylon gag from between Emma's lips, and Emma gasps, "Reg--"

"Quiet." Regina presses the tip of the apple into Emma's mouth. "Don't bite it until I say." She closes her fingers around Emma's jaw. The tip of the apple wedge stands out from her mouth like a bizarre tongue. "Do you understand me, Miss Swan?"

Emma nods carefully, and Regina strokes her cheek before retreating. "Good." She settles on Emma's thighs again, holding the remaining three wedges out to one side. She drags sticky, moist fingers down the middle of Emma's chest, and Emma is stunned by how turned on she is by this. Her panties are pushed aside, and she closes her eyes as Regina strokes her outer folds. She teases the sensitive skin with the pad of her finger, first one side then the other, and then something cold and angular is pressed against her. 

Emma struggles not to bite her mouthful as Regina presses with two fingers. Her labia holds the wedge in place and Emma's cheeks burn. Regina presses one thumb, slick with apple juice, against Emma's clit and rolls slow circles over it. "Look at me. Miss Swan." Emma writhes under her touch, at the odd penetration, and forces her eyes open. Regina places one of the wedges in her own mouth to hold it as she moves the other down, using two fingers to hold her own panties aside as she inserts the wedge into herself.

Regina bites down on the wedge in her mouth, the crunch loud enough to make Emma's shoulders jerk. She sucks the rest of it into her mouth and chews carefully, lips closed out of etiquette's sake but Emma imagines she can see her tongue working. She tightens around the apple that's ( _fucking_ ) inside of her and sucks the wedge in her own mouth. She imagines she can taste Regina's tongue on it. 

Regina leans forward and closes her lips around the other end, sliding down until her lips touch Emma's. Emma struggles to keep her breathing normal as their tongues push the wedge back and forth, and then another crunch. The apple falls into her mouth, and she only keeps from choking by using her tongue to keep it near her teeth. She chews and swallows, and Regina swallows her half as well. Then Emma's mouth is filled with Regina's tongue, sweet with juice, and she sucks hungrily on it. 

She feels a hand on her mound, fingers teasing her clit, and Emma comes. She feels her juices coating the apple wedge, uncaring as she bucks and writhes under Regina's hand, thrusting against it as her juices mingle with that of the apple. When she's finished, Regina breaks the kiss and slides down Emma's body like water, hair brushing sensitive areas as Regina pushes Emma's thighs apart and dips her head down. Her tongue works at Emma's sex, and Emma bangs her head against the pillow in a futile hissy fit. She wants to be free, wants to fight back, but fuck this feels so good. A second orgasm washes through her, and she feels the apple give under her clenching muscles.

Regina finally lifts her head and swallows, running her tongue over her lips. A trickle of juice ( _mine? The apple?_ ) runs from the corner of Regina's mouth to her chin, and she brushes it away with the back of her hand. She looks at it, then swipes at it with her tongue in a surprisingly feline movement. She pushes herself back up, her weight settling between Emma's spread legs, waist against sex, and Regina braces her hands against the mattress so that their faces are lined up.

"Do you have anything to say to me now, Miss Swan?"

_"You know, Miss Swan, you never apologized for the destruction of my apple tree."_

_"It was one branch. And it was symbolic." She sips her cider, then smiles in that smug, superior way she has. "And I'm not sorry."_

_"You will be."_

_Emma didn't flinch. "What's that supposed to mean?"_

"Yes." Emma swallows, still shaky from her orgasm. She runs her eyes down Regina's body, then returns to her face. "What's for dessert?"

Anger flares in Regina's eyes, and her lips purse into an unattractive moue. But then, surprisingly, the features relax as she considers the possibilities.


End file.
